


Advice

by lasweetiebloom



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, One-Shot, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8456497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasweetiebloom/pseuds/lasweetiebloom
Summary: The Warden has been wooed, but Alistair doesn't know what to do next. So he asks the only man he knows who can help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a bit of silly fluff I wrote for fun and wanted to share! Enjoy!

“Zevran, do you have a moment?” The elf was running his dagger along a whetstone, as usual, the grinding a constant song throughout the camp each evening. For all his jokes and flirtations, Zevran was quite particular about his craft. Alistair stood at the tent’s opening, his hands wringing over themselves as he waited to be allowed in. Zevran motioned, stone still in hand, to a small log he’d dragged in for extra seating, and Alistair flopped down.

“All the time in the world for you, my handsome friend. What say you?” He set his tools aside and wiped the dagger off before sheathing it in its hilt. He leaned back on his bedroll, hands lying upon his torso, and he smiled calmly at the human in front of him.

Alistair took a deep breath in, words whirling in his mind. “The thing is… You see, I… Well Sereda…”

Zevran held up a hand, his grin going from relaxed to a wry grin. “Say no more, my friend. I am fairly certain I know what this is about. There is nothing between the dear Warden and me, try as I might.”

 “It’s not  _that_ ,” Alistair said gruffly, his tone briefly dark. “It’s the thing between Sereda and  _me_. We’ve been getting closer, recently, and I want to…” His cheeks burned and he was sure Zevran could see, even in the dim tent. Zevran sat upright, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

 “What do you want to do? Tell me in great detail.” The burning of his face intensified and Alistair sunk his face into his hands.

“Oh, this was a horrible idea,” he lamented, his voice muffled in his palms. Zevran’s chuckle did little to reassure him, but he didn’t leave.

“I’m sorry to jest, my friend. It is in my nature. A blessing and a curse, I tell you. Now, what is the matter? She certainly seems interested in you, for good reason.”

“That’s the problem-”

“The affection is not returned?” Zevran interrupted, his honey eyes crinkling. Alistair shook his head, still in his hands.

“The problem is that I want to make love to her, and I’ve never… Well… done it.”

“You’re a virgin?!” Zevran shouted, finally causing Alistair to move. He leapt across the tent to clap a hand over the elf’s mouth, who seemed pleased at their proximity.

“Maker, be quiet! I don’t need all of Ferelden knowing!”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, dear Alistair! Being a virgin simply means you have not yet partaken in life’s greatest pleasure. There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Zevran spoke with Alistair’s hand still clamped over his mouth. Alistair relaxed and moved back, resuming his seat on the log.

“I can’t say I was expecting that, to be honest, Zevran.”

He shrugged and leaned back again on his elbows. “In Antiva we don’t regard innocence as a dirty secret. We all start somewhere, no? I am curious, though, why you have not acted on your urges yet,” Zevran admitted, the grin not far from his lips.

 “I was given to the Chantry—”

“A great many people are. Yet babies are born to sworn sisters all the time.”

“You speak from experience?” Zevran hooted with laughter and clapped his hands together, but didn’t elaborate. Alistair shook his head and continued, “There wasn’t time. There was training all morning, studying all afternoon, and vigils all evening. If I had actually become a Templar, maybe it would have been different, but…” He sighed and trailed off, a desperate look in his eyes.

“I still do not understand your dilemma. You have not made love to a beautiful woman, and there is a beautiful woman who would like to make love to you. Yet you sit in my tent, blushing adorably. Unless you mean to try your moves on me first?”

Alistair’s cheeks, which had cooled to a dull pink, burned back to red, and he shook his head vehemently. “That’s the thing. Sereda’s a beautiful woman, and she is  _not_ a virgin. I don’t know what to do! What if she… What if I’m terrible,” he whispered his last question, shutting his eyes in frustration.

“You will be. The first time is always rubbish, so there is no point in worrying about that.” Alistair groaned, but Zevran held up a hand to keep him from moaning. “What you need to remember is that, while men like one thing, women like many, many things.”

“Men like more than one thing—”

“Men like in and out. Sure, they differ in their preference for who they do that motion to, but for all intents and purposes, men like in,” Zevran thrust his pelvis up, earning a deeper blush from Alistair, and laid back down, “and out. Women like  _angles_ , they like rubbing and touching and swirling…”

“Maker, this was a terrible, terrible idea. What have I done?” Alistair muttered, but Zevran continued describing what women wanted for a few more minutes.

When he had finally run out of things women liked, he said simply, “Your part will be over before you know it. There’s no way around it the first time. What you can do, though, the way you can keep your fair Warden coming back for more, is to make sure she’s satisfied, too.”

“But  _how_?” An exasperated sigh escaped him, and he threw his hands into the air. Hysterically, he exclaimed, “I don’t even know what to do with my hands when we kiss! How am I supposed to  _please_ her?”

Zevran sighed and thought for a moment. The fire outside of the tent cast an orange glow to their conversation, and the air was stuffy as the elf thought. Alistair nearly stood to leave, when Zevran took a deep breath in. “I am going to tell you my strategy for making a woman scream with pleasure. You should feel quite honored, as I count this method among my most closely held secrets. Now, listen carefully, because it is very complicated and long. First, you must make sure she’s wet—”

“She’ll be wet? Where?” Alistair leaned forward, intending to soak up every word Zevran said, but the elf simply gaped at him.

They sat in uncomfortable silence until Zevran whispered, shock in his voice, “How little do you know about sex?”

“Oh, very little. I have the basic,” Alistair flailed his hands about, “gist of it. But it’s not like they hand out pamphlets.” Zevran cupped his cheek with his hand, his eyes wide.

“I can’t tell you my plan if you do not even know how a woman’s body works, Alistair.” He looked at the top of the tent, thinking again. “I suppose I need to explain that to you, as well. It’s the least I can do for poor Sereda. Maker, help her.”

Zevran leaned forward and began to explain to Alistair, in great detail, everything he knew about the bodies of women. An hour later, Alistair leaned back on his log, his mind reeling. He had seen a woman naked before, but the fact there was so much hidden between their legs…

“She could have had it all,” Zevran said wistfully, a sad smile on his lips. “She could have had Zevran, lover extraordinaire. But instead, she wants to lie with a Templar virgin who has never touched a breast. Women are the Maker’s best mystery.” He sighed and stood up, motioning to the flap of his tent.

“Thank you for all your help, Zevran. I… I don’t know how to thank you.” Alistair had begun to blush again as he stood.

“Make her scream so loudly I can hear it from my tent. That is how you can repay me,” Zevran said, as he shoved Alistair out.


End file.
